


Void

by sciencefictioness



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Cannibalism, Gore, Inappropriate Kagune Usage, Kagune Sex, M/M, Memory Loss, Poor Baby Ayato, Smut, Violence, romantic cannibalism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-04-23 04:13:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4862708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ayato thought Kaneki was dead, and it would have been better that way, really.  Better than looking at this washed out version of him, stalking the streets at night.  Preying on what used to be his friends and allies, a weapon wielded by those he'd once called his enemy.  Ayato thought he was dead, but this was worse.</p><p>Because Kaneki was alive, but he had forgotten everything, and Ayato could not forgive him for that.</p><p>He would bring back 'Sasaki's' memories.</p><p>Or he would die trying, and Ayato was not going alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Corrupted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sceptress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sceptress/gifts).



They were in an abandoned building, rain pouring down outside, leaking through the upper floors to drip in a corner nearby.  It had been an office at some point, desks rotting with disuse, chairs sitting forlorn on their sides.  A couple of filing cabinets open with folders hanging out, all they once protected now sodden and ignored.  They were fairly high up, though which floor it was Ayato could not be sure.  He'd entered through a broken window from the outside, and there weren't any numbers he could see.  He didn't know how Kaneki had found him here on this particular level so quickly either, not with the rain making his senses dull and near useless, but he was not surprised.

Kaneki always found him, somehow.

"We don't have a lot of time.  They'll be looking for me soon."  His voice was like music in Ayato's ears, a song he was ashamed to love.  Needed to hear it all the same, echoing on repeat, soothing down all his rough edges.  They stood a dozen feet apart from one another, afraid to close the distance, because once they did there was no going back.  Not alone with the night outside, deluge pouring down.  Making it impossible to hunt, or avoid the doves.  Impossible to do anything but wait, and Ayato was terrible at waiting.  It felt like that was all he did lately, and he would not go back home unsatisfied.  Ayato had snuck out from under his allies noses, crept through alleyways, scaled buildings.  Jumped from rooftop to rooftop, the storm trying to blow him to the ground.  Crack open his skull, knock out his teeth.

Everything would heal, but it would ache as it did so, and Ayato could not stand the itch.  If he could, he would leave all of himself broken.

He sighed impatiently, fighting the urge to bring out his kagune and lash out at the figure in front of him.  Only the knowledge that Kaneki would let him do it without resisting held him back.  A sad look on that fucking face, even as Ayato made him bleed.

"If we don't have a lot of time, what the fuck are you waiting for?"  Kaneki smiled at him, like one would smile at a petulant child, and Ayato felt his teeth grinding in his jaw.  Kaneki's mask was hanging down around his neck, mouth unzipped and open, leering at Ayato from across the room, and he tugged it off in a smooth gesture.  Dropped it to the ground, forgotten as though it never existed.  Ayato's own mask was held in hand, ears pointed down, and he tossed it to the floor as Kaneki began closing the distance between them.  It was like taking who they were and setting it aside, for awhile at least.  No longer the Black Rabbit and the Eyepatch Ghoul.  Just Ayato and Kaneki, and even that was too much sometimes.  Too different.  Too contradictory.

But tonight, maybe it would be enough.  Enough to make Ayato remember.

Enough to make him forget.

He needed Kaneki to be rough, as Ayato always was when was the one taking.  Ayato was brutal, everything about him vicious and savage.  As though if he were cold enough, careless enough, these things he felt would be less real.

If he trampled this beautiful boy under his feet, then they could both be wrecked together.  All these emotions meaningless.  Each kiss, each touch, each heated breath.  The way they called each other's names, raw and desperate, all of it  a lie.

But Kaneki was never one to lie, not even to himself, and then he was there.  Too much person, too much ghoul.  Too much of everything, and Ayato could not breathe.  His pale hands brushing indigo locks out of Ayato's eyes, pressing him back against the wall with his body.  Fingers soft as they danced over his lips, one hand cupping Ayato's jaw before easing down his chest.  Treating him as though he was something special, something worthy, when Ayato knew he was not.

He was a monster.

It felt like Kaneki was trying to tell him that wasn't true, though.  Not with words, because he wouldn't listen, but with eyes that swallowed him whole.  Ate up every inch of him, lighting up with something Ayato did not want to name.  With hands that always seemed greedy, even in their gentleness, and now they were sliding up Ayato's shirt, those black nails clutching at his back.  Even the lines Kaneki scratched into his flesh were made with care, and Ayato wanted to scream at him.  White hair clouded his vision as Kaneki's lips ghosted over his throat, planting soft kisses there, trailing up over his jaw, lingering at the corner of his mouth.

"I missed you, Ayato."  Ayato cringed at the words, letting his head fall forward until his hair shaded his eyes.  Hid him from Kaneki, in some small way.  _Don't say my name like that.  I can't take it._   "Don't do that.  I need to see you.  Show me your face."  Ayato was a lot of things, most of them shitty, but he wasn't a fucking coward.  He lifted his chin high, meeting Kaneki's eyes as though it was some kind of challenge.  And it was, if only to him.  But as he held that gaze, Kaneki looked at him with that fucking face.  Like he was doing something amazing.  Saving the world, instead of destroying it.  The words were past his lips unbidden, and they tasted like blood in his mouth.  Too sweet, making him feel sick with want.  And _fuck,_ but Ayato wanted more.

"I missed you too."  

Ayato didn't say his name, not right then.  Couldn't get it past his teeth, clenched now, biting down hard against nothing.  Kaneki smiled and took his mouth with moan, one hand fisting in indigo strands while the other clung to Ayato's back.  He parted his lips without hesitation, and Kaneki licked his way into that kiss eagerly.  Ayato felt a hand fumbling at his belt, suddenly rushed and needy, and he'd never felt such stark relief.  _Yes,_ he thought, _now, please Kaneki, I need you._   Then Kaneki shushed him with a soft sound, and Ayato realized with horror that he'd spoken aloud.

"It's okay, I know.  Me too."

Ayato had one leg out of his pants, boot kicked off onto the floor, and then Kaneki was lifting him up.  Pressing him harder into the wall, wrapping both of Ayato's legs around his waist, slicking two fingers in his mouth. The sight had Ayato fucking _aching,_ and as that hand reached down to tease at his entrance, he let out a wanton noise.  Kaneki kissed him again, wet and messy as he slipped those digits inside, stretching Ayato open.  Slow, too slow, but he no longer cared. 

If Kaneki was there, touching his skin and tasting his lips, he could take as long as he wanted.  Ayato would stay buried under those hands forever.   They could be monsters together, heartless and unashamed.

Ayato was sifting through those silky white locks as Kaneki licked at his tongue, pulled back to suck bruises into his throat, over his collarbones.  Biting into the skin, and Ayato wanted it to break.  Wanted his blood in Kaneki's mouth, bitter and filthy.  As though answering his prayers he felt teeth puncturing his skin, and he was not surprised when Kaneki's kagune shot out.  Just two long tendrils, and they coiled closer to wrap themselves around Ayato's thighs, spreading them impossibly wider.  He moaned at the feel of them, splitting him open, holding him up.  All that Kaneki was claiming Ayato for his own.

Mouth biting at his neck, blood dripping from his lips.  Kagune keeping Ayato aloft like an offering, and he wanted to laugh, because he was not worthy.

Ayato was _profane,_ but Kaneki put those hands on him as though he was clean.  Pure, and sacred, and even if it was a lie that was fine.

Kaneki wrapped his arms around Ayato's waist, finally pulling his fingers out from between his lover's pale thighs.  He kissed Ayato over and over as he pressed himself inside.  Inch by inch, agonizingly slow.  Ran a hand all over Ayato's face, down his gory throat.  Under his shirt to rub circles over the taut peaks there, rolling them between his fingers and eliciting beautiful sounds from Ayato's lips.  The tip of one of Kaneki's kagune snaked around Ayato's cock, and he threw his head back with a groan.

Then Kaneki was moving, driving into him with harsh thrusts, and his lips trailed all over Ayato as he took him hard.  His mouth, his throat, his jaw, his shoulders.  Licking and kissing and biting and sucking, hands tugging on those purple strands.  He mumbled Ayato's name into each place he savaged, as though it would soothe the bruises away. Clear away the blood, wash away the ache. It would not, and Ayato was glad, because he needed Kaneki to break him. Tear him into pieces until there was nothing left. The kagune coiled around his shaft was wet and tight, moving with brutal efficiency. Stroking and tugging, even as Kaneki fucked him into the wall. If Ayato could open his eyes and look, he knew what he would see. Cheeks flushed with heat, sweat shining on his brow. Slicking down some of those white locks he pulled on, eyes staring at Ayato with _love._

A love he resented with every fiber of his being. It was like looking in a mirror, and Ayato did not want to see himself reflected there.

So he kept his eyes closed, even as heat rolled through him in a wave. He was breathing in gasps now, mewling into Kaneki's cheek, voice high and ragged.

"K-Kaneki. Kaneki, c-close. _Please._ "

"Ayato."

Kaneki began snapping his hips faster, kagune working with abandon, and Ayato felt that warmth climbing up his shaft now. Coiling in his stomach, creeping down his spine. His eyes wrenched even tighter, hands fisting so hard in Kaneki's hair he was sure he would pull back with loose white strands between his fingers. 

He called Kaneki's name as he came, shooting hot white fluid up between them. Voice full of all that emotion he wanted to deny, and he knew Kaneki would carry it with him forever. Would know that Ayato was a liar. Denying all that he felt, all that he wanted. To spare himself the pain, to try and remain whole.

Kaneki followed soon after, filling him up in hot bursts, whispering into his skin. _Ayato, Ayato, Ayato._ But Kaneki was not a liar, and when he eased back to meet Ayato's eyes, he spoke without regret.

"I love you, Ayato." Ayato shook his head, blinking the moisture back from his eyes. Words full of steel and stone, and they felt heavy in his mouth.

"No, you don't."

..............................................

Ayato shot up in bed with a strangled noise, seed cooling in his boxers as the last vestiges of his dream faded away into the night. He cursed to himself, kicking his dirty clothes off in vicious jerks. _Every fucking night._ He dreamed of Kaneki every night now, though it was not always so visceral. Ever since he laid eyes on that fucking investigator. Sasaki Haise, but even if he'd lost his memories, Ayato had not.

Kaneki had forgotten his family, his friends. His entire history, all erased by the CCG so they could use him as a weapon. Wield him against people he once loved, their faces now gone, vanished like smoke.

Wield him against Ayato, and Sasaki would not even blink an eye.

Ayato had been strong once, fierce and unmoving. A blade in the night, and then Kaneki came along and ruined him. Made him soft, made him weak. Made him _feel,_ when all he wanted to do was exist. Now he ached with hunger, hating himself every time he fed.

Hating himself more when he resisted doing so, those dark eyes in his mind looking at Ayato with desperation. Every bite made him feel filthy, ghoul and human alike. Now Ayato could not even eat without memories surging up, threatening to swallow him whole.

Kaneki had fucking forgotten him, turned into a whole other person. All those moments in the darkness, the heat spread out between them, hands desperate and clutching, tasting each other's skin....

It had all been just as much of a lie as Ayato always hoped, cast aside by a broken mind, just as easy as breathing. All those emotions he thought Kaneki would carry with him forever fallen to the ground like rain. Evaporating into the air, nothing but a memory of feeling itching at the back of Ayato's head.

But if he could not forget, then neither could Sasaki Haise. 

Ayato would make him remember or die trying, and if he had to bring Sasaki along?

That was just fine.


	2. Mask

The ground was empty beneath the drop off, despite the presence of an abandoned car on the side of the road overhead. Ayato could not decide if he was happy or furious, and that indecision thrust him squarely over the edge into rage. Touka's lackey had been here already, picking up the corpse of whatever pathetic human had decided to end their life and spiriting it away to :Re. Yomo worked fast, and Ayato wasn't surprised that he'd already made off with the body. If Ayato lingered there long enough, Yomo would probably return to dispose of the vehicle. Selling it off to someone in the underworld and using the money to help fund their dealings. Scouting out places where people committed suicide, digging through medical waste disposals, sneaking corpses out of incinerators before they were cremated.

Feeding off the dead like vultures. Like scavengers, and that is not what ghouls were meant to be.

They were _predators,_ deadly and dangerous. Ghouls took lives, with their hands and their teeth. With their kagune. With their will. Ayato's kind were not meant to prey on the dead, carrion birds swooping in at the first sign of a fresh body.

So when there were no human remains for Ayato to feed on, his first reaction should not have been disappointment. Why was he even here? Ready to pull a limb from the body of the fallen and make off with it, like a hyena escaping a lion's forgotten kill before he returned.

Ayato was pathetic. He could feel it in his jaw as he clenched it, just how weak he'd become. Not physically, no. He could still fight, could still stand against the doves and ghouls foolish enough to fight him without batting an eye. Ayato was weak inside, in his bones and his blood and his chest. 

Where Kaneki was, poisonous and lingering within him, whispering in Ayato's head when all he needed was silence. As the ghoul stalked the streets at night, stomach so empty it felt like he would collapse, hands shaking with the need for food and Kaneki would not let him eat. He was not even there, did not really exist anymore. Only within Sasaki's broken mind, miles away, no trace of Ayato inside it.

Yet when Ayato was ready to break a human under his fists, take their warm, sweet flesh between his teeth, spill their blood onto the filthy concrete of some alleyway, Kaneki was there.

_No, Ayato. Don't. Please._

Ayato found himself in dark corners of the city, anyway. Moving from ward to ward unchallenged, because the ghouls who called those feeding grounds their own knew better. They could fight Ayato, and lose, driven from the places they sought their meals. Or they could let him pass in silence, nodding their head and averting their eyes. No blood spilled, no territory lost, and it if ate at their pride, well....

Ayato did not really care. Flitting from rooftop to rooftop, a lone woman catching his eye as she stumbled down the street. A prostitute by the looks of it, track marks running up and down her arms. When he saw the shadow of a ghoul following after her, caught that familiar, telltale scent, he felt adrenaline rush through him. Ayato told himself it was because he was eager for a fight, ready to let his kagune out. To relish the violence of battle, the feel of an enemy being crushed under his hands.

He did not want to save a human, nor did Ayato need to feast on that ghoul's rancid flesh. He was not that pitiful. Was not that weak.

The woman screamed when he pounced on her pursuer, running as fast as she could, not looking back. It was for the best, probably. If she had, she would have seen Ayato there, slitting the fallen ghoul's throat. He tugged his gas mask down off his face, and the first mouthful of meat still tasted vile. Rotten, and acidic, the worst thing he had ever tasted. Just as it always was.

Months of eating nothing but long dead humans and the flesh of ghoul's, and Ayato should be used to it. Should no longer wince, and cringe, stomach roiling as it tried to rid itself of the sustenance that Ayato forced down.

It had not tasted nearly so foul with Kaneki by his side, mouth gory and obscene and so fucking beautiful. They'd shared bloody kisses next to the bodies of their enemies, the bitterness on his tongue fading into nothingness as Kaneki swallowed it down with his own.

Now there was no one but Ayato, his victim's corpse cooling next to him on the ground. His kindred, his brethren. A predator, as he was supposed to be. 

Nothing but food, now, and Ayato steeled himself as he took another bite.

.....................................................................

The next night Ayato was restless, no longer hungry, full of energy with nowhere to direct it. His superiors at Aogiri were strangely silent, and had urged everyone to keep a low profile for the moment, but would not say why. Ayato found himself roaming the eighteenth ward, which for all intents and purposes was Aogiri's territory. He could move freely there without being troubled, and despite the warnings of Aogiri, maybe he would find some doves there. Tatara and the others did not give a shit that Hinami was wasting away in Cochlea. Why should Ayato follow their orders blindly when they obviously did not care about their own?

He scaled buildings like they were nothing, racing over rooftops, breath hot and humid in his gas mask. It was different than the one he wore when he was doing Aogiri's bidding, and with good reason. If a ghoul investigator saw him, they might not associate him with the group. They would underestimate him, and Ayato would take every advantage he could get. The wind felt good on his face, blowing indigo locks out of his eyes, biting at his skin. 

It was distracting, he discovered, when he landed on the top of a nearby roof to see a ghoul there. Crouching in the corner, clutching at his head, black and white hair fisted in his hands. Ayato was ready to leap to another building and leave this ghoul behind when he looked up, and _oh, God._ The wind changed, blowing his scent into Ayato's face at the same time that mask became visible. Black leather with a leering, unzipped mouth. So achingly familiar, and Ayato knew how that mask smelled. How it felt. How it tasted. What it sounded like as it landed on countless floors. Tile and hardwood and concrete, clattering onto the ground, totally forgotten.

And _fuck,_ but Sasaki Haise looked _lost._


	3. Flesh

There were ghosts whispering to Sasaki, even before Ayato arrived. He wasn't sure where Aogiri got the information, or how trustworthy it was, but there were rumors that the investigator's memories were threatening to return. Ayato always scoffed at the suggestion of such a thing, unwilling to hope. To be weak, yearning for something that would never happen, but standing before Sasaki he knew they'd been right. Those walls inside his mind were breaking. Ayato could tell with one look, and the way the investigator clutched at his hair desperate and unhinged. Trying to anchor himself somehow, or quiet something no one but him could hear. Ayato had seen him before, this new person Kaneki had become, but always from far away. Surrounded by others from Aogiri, or trying to remain hidden from the doves they observed. Never _right there,_ just the two of them and the night and the lights of the city that blotted out the stars. Sasaki stood up slowly, leveling his gaze on Ayato, as though deciding if he was a threat. Ayato knew Sasaki and his squad had been masquerading as stray ghouls, but he hadn't expected to actually run into any of them. Hadn't been ready.

Not for the wave of emotion that rolled through him when Sasaki's eyes settled on him, clouded with confusion. Wincing as though his head throbbed, teeth bared through the leering gap of his mask. It seemed as though he was trying to speak through utter agony, searching for words where there was only pain, but Ayato did not give him a chance to find them. Not when affection was swirling in his chest, and Ayato buried it in fury, unwilling to let it show on his face.

God, Ayato fucking missed him so much it hurt.

Hated that he wanted to feel those arms around him. Taste his mouth. His eyes started to sting, and Ayato blinked fast, disbelieving that his body would betray him in such a way. But Kaneki had _died,_ then come back from the grave, wide smile and no past and all his demons tucked away where not even he could see them. It wasn't _fair._

So Ayato willed his kagune out of his back, letting them swell to life behind him, because he'd been waiting for this chance for so long. The chance to strike out at Sasaki, to make him suffer as Ayato had suffered. To punish him for not remembering all that he was, all that he had been. 

Everyone he'd loved. As much as Ayato had always denied it, deep down he knew it was trued. Kaneki had loved him, like no one else ever had. Without ties of blood, without reason, without explanation. Kaneki loved him, and then forgot him like he was nothing at all. Ayato had always known he was worthless, but Kaneki told him otherwise. With his lips, and his hands. The heat of words whispered into pale skin, fingers that laced with his own, voice desperate and honest and full off everything Ayato wanted to deny. 

Then he'd walked away and never come back, and Ayato could not even hate him for it.

Hated himself instead, and watched Sasaki's eyes narrow at the sight of his kagune, no longer lost in the sway of his thoughts. The investigator had no quinque, but Ayato knew as well as anyone that when it came to Sasaki, that did not matter. He did not need one to defeat his enemies, not with the kagune he wielded. Not with his reflexes that were infallible, his body that moved on its own, his eyes that saw everything. They'd always seen right through Ayato, anyway. 

He didn't even stand a chance. Wanted this fight all the same, like he wanted air in his lungs or crimson in his veins. Wanted the devastation that Kaneki always left in his wake, destruction wrought from flesh and bone. A story told in the broken pieces left behind. Limbs and blood and gore. 

Ayato's wretched fucking heart that Kaneki had coaxed to life, and discarded like so much rotten meat. 

Then that voice broke through the night, clawing its way through Ayato's memory to curl through his ears like smoke. His eyes closed at the sound, everything in him loose and trembling, eager to hear more.

"You sure you want to do this? I don't want any trouble. We can just forget we saw each other, and go our separate ways." Ayato could _feel_ the black in his eyes then, hostile and laced with red. Could feel the sneer on his face, so familiar he wanted to scream.

"I guess that's what you do best. Forget. Maybe you can teach me, Kaneki." 

Sasaki's eyes went wide, one of them rapidly squinting as half of his face twisted into a grimace, and Ayato let his kagune rain down on him in that moment of weakness. Sasaki's past struggling to break through, even as he tried to fight it. Ayato would've fought it, too. Their past was painful, and full of loss and defeat and it was better off forgotten. But Ayato was selfish, and cruel. If he could not forget neither could Sasaki, and Ayato fell into a crouch as he fired off chunks of himself. His crystalline kagune shards did not impact Sasaki, because of course they didn't. The investigator dodged expertly out of their path, not even drawing out his own kagune but flitting through the air, edging closer to Ayato as he avoided the ghoul's projectiles. Ayato was suddenly furious, firing out even more shards, a few of them glancing across Sasaki's arms. It was more luck than skill, but Ayato did not care.

He just wanted to watch him bleed.

"I'm not even worth fighting seriously, eh? Won't even pull out your kagune? It's been awhile since I've seen it, Kaneki! Come on, for old time's sake!" 

Sasaki cringed again at the mention of his real name, steps faltering to allow one of Ayato's kagune crystals to imbed itself in his throat. Not deep enough to really hurt, and he pulled it out with a rush of blood that had Ayato panting. Part of Ayato wanted to lick it up, listen to Kaneki whisper his name, mouths red and wet where they pressed together. This was not Kaneki, though, not really.

And Sasaki Haise didn't know his name.

He could not help but smile when Sasaki's kagune emerged, erupting from his back as he fought to steady himself. Too distracted by his broken thoughts to fight without them, and the idea that he was enough of a threat to warrant their use warmed Ayato inside. The one thing he was good at, the only time his skin felt settled against his bones, adrenaline rushing through Ayato's blood to set him alight. Then the fight was a blur of movement, Sasaki dodging his attacks as Ayato goaded him. Calling out his name, _'Kaneki, Kaneki,'_ just to make him falter, using those openings to slash him apart. If the name felt good in Ayato's mouth, he did not have to admit it, not even to himself. After that there was no thought, just his body moving to avoid painfully familiar kagune as it lashed out at him. Concrete of the rooftop slicing at Ayato's elbows as he rolled across the surface, knocked this way and that by Sasaki's attacks. He jumped from one building to the next, trying to get some space between them and fire his shards from a distance, only to have Sasaki follow after. Right in his face, no room to breathe, no room to move. Sasaki's fists were stone, his kagune steel, and Ayato was soon helpless beneath them. There was asphalt in his skin, a stray tooth clattering across the cement when he spit blood from his mouth. Dirt in his eyes and fluid in his lungs, but he kept struggling, kept fighting. Ayato did not know how to give up. How to give in. Kaneki had given that to Ayato in the first place, his ability to yield, to submit. To bend, instead of break. To let him in, soft and quiet and without violence. Then he'd taken it away when he became someone else, and Ayato could do nothing but resist.

But Sasaki was strong, Ayato's ribs cracking underneath his feet nostalgic in all the wrong ways. His weight was perfect when he straddled Ayato's hips, eyes crazed as his kagune whipped around and-

_Yes, there, please._

Sasaki's kagune stabbed into Ayato's flesh, spearing through his organs, until blood seeped from his mouth. The pain was a visceral thing, physical instead of emotional. Real, and justified. Something he _earned._ Just what he deserved, all he ever wanted. To die at the hands of the only person he'd ever been weak for. Someone Ayato could be defeated by, and not feel ashamed. He'd chased after his own death, fists clenched, eyes open. Sasaki's kagune slithered inside him, so close to his heart Ayato felt it stutter, and he wanted to tell him to go deeper, to tear it from his chest. Maybe it would hurt less once it stopped beating, and in that moment he was not ashamed to beg. Reached up to brush black and white strands out of Sasaki's eyes, giving him a sad smile, voice wet and broken. No, not Sasaki. Not to Ayato.

Never Sasaki.

"Kill me. P-Please, Kaneki. It hurts." Something flashed behind his eyes, the black seeping out them all at once, and they were wet, suddenly. So wide it looked painful, and Kaneki shuddered all over, kagune vanishing into nothingness to leave a gaping wound behind in Ayato's stomach. Kaneki's hand shook so hard it flung little red droplets all over them both as he lifted it to Ayato's face. His jaw shivered, and it looked as though he was the one who'd been stabbed, face twisted with agony. The misery of his memories was a weight on his shoulders, and he sagged beneath it. For the barest of seconds, Ayato felt sorry to have forced him to bear it.

" _Ayato._ " More of an exhale than a word, but it lit him up with fire, and he felt wetness leaking down his face. He'd never hurt so badly, and the asphalt of the roof was cutting open his back, and his guts were slipping out before his skin could mend, but even through all his despair, Ayato was glad to be home. If only for awhile. His eyes flicked down to the gore between them, scent rusty and vile, and bit out words through a clenched jaw.

"N-Not for long. F-Finish it, Kaneki. Been waiting for you." 

Kaneki followed his gaze, making an anguished noise in his throat. Then he brought his arm up to his mouth and bit down, pulling back with a chunk of flesh in his teeth. He pulled it out with nimble fingers, and he did not ask Ayato's permission. Just shoved it between his lips, and the ghoul fought down the urge to vomit as the vile taste of his own kind threatened to make him sick. Ayato wanted to spit it out, tell Kaneki to let him die, that he wasn't worth saving. That neither of them were.

Instead he chewed, and swallowed, cringing all the while. Opened his lips when Kaneki wrenched off another piece of himself, and felt the skin sealing over his organs. Kaneki pulled Ayato into his lap and rocked back and forth, running his red slick fingers through indigo strands. Holding on so tight it was painful. Putting Ayato back together with his flesh and his blood. Shushing him, even though Kaneki was the one making noise. Whining like an animal, face buried in Ayato's hair, all of him shaking and strung tight.

Remembering things that cut him open from inside. People he'd failed, and lost, and forgotten.

Finally he stood up, Ayato clutched to his chest like an infant, and ran through the dark of the city streets. Over buildings, into alleyways, weaving a convoluted trail that no one could follow. Ayato wasn't sure where he was going, exactly, or who he was running from, but it didn't really matter.

Kaneki's arms were strong around him, and he wondered why he'd hated it before, how safe he felt within them. Why he'd railed against this peace, Kaneki's warmth rolling over him like a wave. Why he thought Kaneki's love made him weak instead of strong. All the time he'd wasted fighting when he should have surrendered, but Ayato wouldn't resist anymore. Not right then, with death looming just behind his eyes, held back by Kaneki's flesh, Kaneki's blood. If he ever woke up Ayato could hate the ghoul again, and pressed in close, breathing in Kaneki's scent, he wasn't sure if he wanted to or not.

It should have felt like defeat, but it didn't, and he let Kaneki's heartbeat lull him to sleep.


End file.
